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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28356774">Fate Allowed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattiewilda/pseuds/Mattiewilda'>Mattiewilda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Boy Meets World</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:41:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28356774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattiewilda/pseuds/Mattiewilda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn and Angela find joy in the small moments and learn to reconcile the bitter with the sweet while having a quiet Christmas with their little family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Shawn Hunter/Angela Moore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes, another story. Do I NEED another one? Nope, lol, but since when does that stop me? I've gotten requests in the past to write a happier Angela/Shawn story. Anyone familiar with my writing knows that's something I struggle with. After rewatching BMW as an adult, I just don't see Angela/Shawn as a very healthy relationship. No doubt their chemistry is off the charts, but he got a pass on too much bad behavior and she was blamed for too much. Ahem...but that's just me, lol. Anyway, as I said I've gotten a lot of requests and I've fallen into a bit of an editing/writing rut and wanted to try something different to reset the muse.</p>
<p>Timeline wise...2010ish. Maybe?</p>
<p>This is only going to be a few chapters long. Not saying an exact number ahead of time because I'm usually off.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Cory, no, come on. I know it's been a while since we've seen each other, but…" Shawn sighed into the phone and stared out the window. It was another damp, dreary winter day. That might bother some people, but not him. He didn't need constant sunshine to be happy. In fact he found the frequent gray skies to be cheery in their own weird way. It must be his wife's influence. Even the darkest days held promise as long as he had her by his side. God, he was turning into such a sap. "What, yeah, I'm still here."</p>
<p>"What's it going to take to convince you, Shawnie? What do I have to do? Is it money? We'll pay for your plane tickets."</p>
<p>"It's not money," he snapped back, probably more harsh than intended. While he was comfortable now, his lack of funds growing up would always be a sore spot. "We can pay our own way."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't…I didn't mean it like that. It's just that we've spent every Christmas together since we were eleven. It's tradition. Just think of it: trimming the tree on Christmas Eve, my mom making so much to eat we're all in a food coma before the desserts make it to the table, Mr. Feeny reading <i>A Christmas Carol</i> even though no one ever asks him to, and then complaining when we all fall asleep before the end. Can you just turn you back on those traditions?"</p>
<p>"I'm not turning my back on anything. But I have my own family now. We want to create our own traditions. Niko's at an age where he's starting to build memories. I want the first Christmas he remembers to be at home with his parents. Is that so bad?"</p>
<p>It was Cory's turn to sigh. "No, it's not." There was nothing he could say that could compete with that. "You win."</p>
<p>"I think there's some static on the line. What did you just say?"</p>
<p>"You don't have to rub it in."</p>
<p>"Sorry, it's not often you relent and let me win one so easily."</p>
<p>"It's a couple days before Christmas. You call this giving up easy?"</p>
<p>"Fair enough."</p>
<p>"I don't know how I'm going to break it to Riley and Auggie that Uncle Shawn won't be at Christmas for the first time in…"</p>
<p>"I'm hanging up now."</p>
<p>"Fine, fine. You have your own life, your own family. I get it."</p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p>"But you owe me Spring break, mister!"</p>
<p>It wasn't worth pointing out that they had to see if their breaks synced up. There was months before he had to worry about that. "We'll Skype or something on Christmas Eve so you can watch Niko open the presents you sent. We'll let him help open the baby's, too. Sonnet's too young to give a damn about Christmas yet. She just likes to stare at the lights."</p>
<p>"But I didn't send any-"</p>
<p>"Topanga sent yours' last week and your mom and the Feenys' sent theirs' a couple weeks ago."</p>
<p>"Oh. So I guess I was the only one holding out hope you were coming home?"</p>
<p>"I think I am home now, Cor," Shawn said quietly. He lifted a picture from atop the bookcase. His wife was in the rocker with both kids on her lap. In one arm she cradled a nursing newborn and in the other she held their preschooler, reading to him from a book about his newest obsession- bugs. It was his favorite photograph out of any he's ever taken, definitely one of the most beautiful sites he's ever seen. "I'm home."</p>
<p>"But Portland is so far away. I don't get why you had to decide to live in Oregon of all places. First you bounce all around the globe for years and when you finally do settle down its twenty-nine hundred miles away?!"</p>
<p>"That part sucks, but it's not-"</p>
<p>"It's a minimum six hour plane ride."</p>
<p>"A plane ride you want me to take with a four and a half year old and a five week old. Does that not sound like the very definition of hell to you? Because it's not my idea of a good time."</p>
<p>"Me and Topanga made the drive to Philly when Riley was two and a half weeks old."</p>
<p>"And from what I heard you bitched about how tired you were the whole time even though your parents gave you an out and said they understood you staying home that Christmas."</p>
<p>"Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Did I push you away? Are you mad at me?"</p>
<p>"I'm just trying to live my life, Cor. The dart happened to land here."</p>
<p>"You know that's not funny. I'm never going to believe you guys decided where to live by throwing a dart at a map."</p>
<p>Shawn was never so happy to hear cries coming from the baby monitor. "Sorry, I have to go. Nap time's over. I'll talk to you later. Christmas Eve for sure, okay?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, talk to you Christmas Eve."</p>
<p>/</p>
<p>A little while Shawn was pacing from one end of the house to the other, wondering if anyone's eardrums had actually ruptured from a baby's cries before. "I know, kid, I know. You're hungry. I get it. But if you'd just take the bottle like a reasonable person…it's the exact same milk you get from your mom, I swear. I wouldn't lie to you, Sonnet. I'm not that kind of guy. Well…maybe I used to be the kind of guy who said what I had to to get by and survive, but I'm not that kind of dad. Believe that. Niko can vouch for me and you like him, right?" She quieted down when he offered the bottle again. For a moment he let himself think she actually had the cognitive ability to decide to be reasonable and listen to him. Instead she was just gathering some oxygen for her next crying jag. His only consolation was that she wasn't as loud this time. "Okay, you can cry your little heart out. I'm not going anywhere." He added a little extra bounce in his step and patted her back as he walked. "Are you sick of hearing the story of how you got your name yet? You see, it all started with a book of sonnets and love poems I found in this girl's purse. And, as you probably suspected, this girl was a very special person and I knew I needed to find out who she was…</p>
<p>"…and that's why your name is so special," he concluded. "Sonnet represents unbending, never ending love. It's a symbol of the ever fixed mark your mom is on my soul. Daddy likes to think she feels the same about me."</p>
<p>"She does."</p>
<p>He turned around and saw Angela standing in the doorway. "Oh, hey."</p>
<p>"Hey."</p>
<p>"Daddy, I buy you Christmas stuff," Niko exclaimed and ran into the room.</p>
<p>He feigned surprise. "You did?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, see!"</p>
<p>"Niko, wait, you're not supposed to-" It was too late. Their little boy was elbow deep in the bag and pulled out a tie covered in face of various <i>Shrek</i> characters. There was also a new journal with <i>Thomas the Tank Engine</i> on the cover. Those were the risks you took when you let a four year old pick out gifts.</p>
<p>"You like them, daddy?"</p>
<p>After growing up in a house where his family either couldn't afford presents or just didn't bother, Shawn now had a son who couldn't wait to give him his presents. Who cared that it was still a couple days before Christmas or that he literally couldn't remember the last time he wore a tie? "I love them so much. But do you know what would be fun?"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"If you and mommy wrap them up for me and put them under the tree, this way I can be super surprised on Christmas morning."</p>
<p>"You will be shock?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, I will be very shocked. Does that sound good?"</p>
<p>"Sounds good," Niko mimicked.</p>
<p>"Go hide them under your bed so I can't find them, okay?"</p>
<p>"Okay, daddy."</p>
<p>They laughed as they watched their son run out of the room. "Subtle thy name is Niko."</p>
<p>"I probably should be appalled that my kid is such a bad liar, but it definitely works in our favor in the long run."</p>
<p>"What are you talking about? You're a horrible liar."</p>
<p>"Most people don't think so."</p>
<p>"Most people aren't me."</p>
<p>Shawn conceded her point. "I never could fool you, could I?"</p>
<p>She shook her head. He'd tried multiple times in the past, mostly because he was afraid of his feelings, afraid of hurting her, or getting hurt himself. She always saw through it. "You'd better not try and start that again."</p>
<p>"I learned my lesson…eventually. It almost cost me you, us. Not worth it." The baby squirmed in his arms and began to fuss again. "Sorry, someone's been waiting on you for lunch. She wouldn't take a bottle from me. I tried multiple times."</p>
<p>Angela placed her shopping bags on the coffee table and walked over to her husband and daughter. "Being quite the demanding princess, huh?"</p>
<p>"I think we can cut her a little slack. She can barely hold her head up and her only means of communicating are screaming in my ear."</p>
<p>"I don't know, Sonnet. Is daddy telling the truth? He's not making you look very good," she remarked as she took their now crying daughter into her arms.</p>
<p>"All I meant was-"</p>
<p>"Relax, Shawn, I know. I was just kidding." She offered him a smile and squeezed his arm before moving to the recliner to settle with the baby. Within moments the crying ceased. "So what was with the conversation Niko and I walked in on? Were you letting her know who to blame if she ever decides she hates her name?"</p>
<p>"How long were you standing there?"</p>
<p>"Just a minute or two."</p>
<p>"You don't think she will, do you?" Though he loved the moniker, Shawn knew it was a lot to saddle a baby with. Sometimes he wondered if they should've made it her middle name instead. "It's not technically a name, but the sentiment-"</p>
<p>"I know. I still can't believe you talked me into it though. I can't picture her as anything else now, but major accomplishment on your part, babe."</p>
<p>"You flat out vetoed naming her Poet."</p>
<p>"That's even less of a name than Sonnet." Angela ran a finger across Sonnet's faint hairline and chuckled when the infant grabbed it tight in her little fist and pulled it away. "Sorry, baby girl, was I disturbing you?" She studied her daughter's face before speaking again. "You want to hear something crazy?"</p>
<p>"Sure."</p>
<p>"I think she looks like my dad. She has his eyes."</p>
<p>"That's been obvious since the day she was born," he said, his tone soft.</p>
<p>"Last night I was rocking her to sleep after her 2AM feeding and she gave me once of those smiles where it's maybe a real smile but could also still be gas, you know?"</p>
<p>"Yeah." He took a seat on the arm of the chair and wrapped his arm around her.</p>
<p>"Something about her expression reminded me of my dad…just this look he'd get on his face when he found something amusing, but not quite funny enough to laugh at."</p>
<p>"So, basically the way he'd look at me when I tried to make a joke?"</p>
<p>She let his attempt at humor go and continued speaking. "I think it's finally hitting me that he won't be here for Christmas. I didn't have time to think about my first Thanksgiving without him because we were barely home from the hospital after Sonnet was born. I was deep in new baby zombie mode. Hell, I'm still in zombie mode, but…" Angela bit her lip and kept her focus on her daughter, worried Shawn would think she was losing her mind. "I called him today, tried to anyway.</p>
<p>"I just….I forgot. I wanted to ask him about these cookie bars my grandma made every Christmas when I was a kid. I want to make them with Niko but I couldn't find the recipe in my box of stuff from grandma." She attempted to fight off the tears that came to her eyes, but to no avail. "Sorry."</p>
<p>"Nothing to be sorry for." He handed over a clean cloth diaper from the stack on the coffee table for her to dry her eyes. "Are you okay?"</p>
<p>"It didn't hit me until I heard his voicemail message." Most people thought she was nuts for still keeping his cell phone active all these months later, but she couldn't bring herself to cancel it just yet. "How could I forget? What kind of person forgets something like that?"</p>
<p>"Maybe you just don't want it to be real."</p>
<p>She leaned into him and rested her head against his chest. "Most days it feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from."</p>
<p>"I get it, kind of. For the longest time I told myself Chet was still out there trying to find whatever the hell it was he was chasing to make him happy. How sick is it when parental abandonment is the better alternative?"</p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>They both jumped when a loud noise echoed throughout the house. It was quickly followed by a little voice saying, <i>'uh-oh.'</i></p>
<p>"Crap, lost track of how long he was alone."</p>
<p>Shawn patted her knee. "I'll check him. Are you okay?"</p>
<p>She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."</p>
<p>"You sure?"</p>
<p>
  <i>"Mommy, daddy, I made a ass-uh-dent!"</i>
</p>
<p>They looked at each other for a few seconds before they burst out laughing.</p>
<p>"Is it wrong if I say I hope he never learns the correct pronunciation of accident?"</p>
<p>"Go check him please."</p>
<p>"Okay." He planted a quick kiss on her lips before he stood. "Remind me to tell you all about Cory's phone call later. Who knew we had the power to ruin Christmas."</p>
<p>"Did you tell him that planes can get to Portland just as easily as they get to New York?"</p>
<p>"I was saving that for you. But hey, this was the first time in forever he didn't mention that we eloped with only your dad and Jack as witnesses."</p>
<p>"Wow, progress."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long wait for the second chapter. I'd wanted to get other stories updated before I did this one. (I like to rotate.) I know it's February now and this is Christmas themed, but there's so much snow on the ground by me I'm surprised I don't see Santa when I look out my window. Anyways...there's going to be at least one more part to this, maybe more. Who knows, this might be one of those stories I never mark complete and just add the occasional short as it comes to me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angela took a step back from the bassinet and let out a quiet sigh of relief when the baby didn’t stir. Sonnet hadn’t wanted to settle tonight and it took a bit longer than normal to get her to sleep. She adjusted the white noise machine and made sure the baby monitor was on before she vacated the room and headed downstairs. On her way down she peeked in on Shawn and Niko. She missed doing her son’s bedtime routine as much as she used to, but the baby needed her more right now. Luckily he was an amazing little guy and understood why mom was busy with his baby sister. Angela tried to make up time with him where she could, but it was hard, more difficult than she anticipated. It seemed to be much harder going from one child to two than it had been to go from zero to one. When she was pregnant with Sonnet she worried about not loving the new baby as much as Niko. While that ended up being ridiculous, she found her real concern should’ve been developing an extra set of hands to tend to both kids.</p><p>But now it was time for mom to relax. She’d have some tea and maybe read a little. There was a book she’d started somewhere in her second trimester that she hoped to finish eventually. At this rate it wouldn’t happen until the kids left for college. Really, it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t keep her eyes open beyond two pages, was it?</p><p>“It took three books and eight stories, but Niko is down for the count.” Shawn winced when she jumped. “Sorry, were you asleep?”</p><p>“Dozing. Didn’t even make it one page this time.”</p><p>“Maybe you should just skip to the last page and find out who the killer is,” he teased.</p><p>“It’s not a murder mystery.” Angela moved her legs to give Shawn room to sit on the couch. “Did you say you read Niko three books and eight stories? That doesn’t make sense.”</p><p>“The kid found a loophole. I said I’d read three books, but the last he picked was one of his books with multiple stories.”</p><p>She smiled. “He’s a smart one.”</p><p>“Gets it from you.”</p><p>“Hey, you’re no slouch yourself.”</p><p>“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Remind me to kill Eric though, will you?”</p><p>“Why would I do a thing like that?”</p><p>“Because the multiple story book was the <i>Plays with Squirrels’ Adventures</i> one. Why does he have to send our kid every single piece of merchandise he makes?” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe he has a children’s show. Then again it is PBS. They’ll take anybody. Is he still aiming to be more popular than Mister Rogers?”</p><p>“That’s not what he said. He said he wants to be as inspirational as Mister Rogers. Eric wants to leave an impact on future generations.”</p><p>“All I know is Mister Rogers didn’t live in the middle of the woods with talking animals.”</p><p>“Did you even pay attention when Trolley went to visit <i>The Land of Make Believe</i>?”</p><p>How were they were having this conversation again? “Where did Eric even come up with the character, anyway?”</p><p>“He said it came to him years ago in a vision. It had something to do with the meaning of life… I think. I got lost once or twice when he was telling the story.”</p><p>“There had to have been drugs involved in this vision. Maybe that’s why he was so off his rocker back then: Eric was on a nice little acid trip in college. It would explain so much. The only offensive thing is that he didn’t share with the rest of us.”</p><p>Angela lightly pressed her foot into his stomach. “Stop. And promise you’ll be nice when he comes to visit next month with his fiancee.”</p><p>“Eric’s coming to visit?”</p><p>“He’ll be in the area. He’s traveling around filming segments for his show in various national parks to show kids what they’re like up close.”</p><p>“I guess that’s cool.”</p><p>“I thought so.”</p><p>“And he’s engaged? Who signed up for that sideshow?”</p><p>“The moose.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“She’s the moose.”</p><p>“He’s marrying a moose?”</p><p>“She has a name, Moo-Shell.”</p><p>“Are you shitting me right now?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“He’s not marrying a moose named Moo-Shell. I refuse to believe that.”</p><p>“Her name is Michelle, and she’s in the moose costume. Hence, her character name, Moo-Shell. Don’t you pay attention to the characters when you read the books to Niko or watch the show?”</p><p>Shawn squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t study for this test.”</p><p>“Jack called. He said he and Benjamin will be here Christmas day around noon. He’ll text if their flight time changes.”</p><p>“I still can’t believe it. How the hell is Jack a father?”</p><p>“You know how it happened,” she teased.</p><p>“Gross, thanks for the mental images.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><p>“But come on. Some woman he had a fling with while on a business trip randomly shows after seven years and says this is your kid?”</p><p>“To be fair the DNA test showed she was right.”</p><p>“Still, this is the kind of thing you’d think would happen to me, not Jack.”</p><p>Angela sat up and glared at him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”</p><p>Oops, bad hypothetical to give. “No, I mean…not as far as I know. I just… I was trying to say I had uh…a more active social life than he did.” About six months after she’d left for Europe with her father they had a fight, a big one. The pressures of a long distance relationship were proving to be more difficult than either of them anticipated. After a lot of yelling and crying, they’d decided to end things. Shawn dated a lot of different women following the breakup in an effort to fill the Angela sized hole in his heart. He’d started drinking again during this time, too. It was an ugly period for him, or, so he was told. He doesn’t remember a lot of it. “But I swear, the day I became a father was in Denver, Colorado at 2:42PM on April 1st in the year two thousand and-”</p><p>“Okay,” she said, laughing. “I get it. Sorry.”</p><p>“That’s all right.”</p><p>“Do you need me to remind you how much you freaked out and didn’t want a kid with a birthday on April Fool’s Day?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I believe the words, <i>“Can’t you just cross your legs and hold it in until after midnight,”</i> came out of your mouth. If I had murdered you then and there, there's not a jury in the world that would've convicted me.”</p><p>“I didn’t want him to be treated like a joke. Plus you were in so much pain and I couldn’t help. Focusing on something stupid like the date gave me something to fixate on, so I wouldn’t panic. It’s been almost five years. Are you ever going to let me live it down?”</p><p>“Eventually.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Maybe.”</p><p>“Gee thanks,” he said sarcastically, “I can feel the love. But to get back to Jack, I still think it was messed up of this woman to wait seven years.” He’s spent a lot of time on the phone with his brother, listening while Jack cursed all the time lost with his son. The brothers swore they were going to be the generation to learn from the mistakes of the past. Now he felt like he was part of the never ending cycle of dysfunctional fathers and sons. “She screwed both him and Benji over.”</p><p>“I never said she was right morally. Just that she was right about the DNA test.”</p><p>“I’m surprised he’s coming here and not going to spend Christmas in New York with his mom and step-dad.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“You still don’t see how close you guys have gotten, do you?” Angela got up and retrieved on of the few photos that exist from their wedding day. “We had two people there when we got married and Jack was one of them.”</p><p>“We didn’t plan it that way. When we woke up that morning we didn’t know we’d end the day married.”</p><p>It was as if it happened yesterday. They were in California, each having taken a few days off of work to help her dad look at retirement properties. One morning they were out walking through Redwood National Forest and came upon a wedding. They watched from a distance, smiling as the happy couple- surrounded by about twenty friends and family- sealed their commitment with a kiss. It wasn’t that they’d never considered marriage prior to that. No, they talked about it occasionally. But it never seemed to be the right time. They claimed they were focusing on their careers and saving money for the future. Then said it was too hard to get everyone together and pick a date. The truth was they’d been afraid, afraid to change what had finally become a steady, healthy relationship after years of dramatic on again/off again angst and turmoil. Afraid that altering one thing would topple their lives like a failed game of Jenga. Instead, they’d be partners, better halves, life mates even. Husband and wife were labels too scary to claim at the time.</p><p>The air seemed different that day, however. It was as if they were in a sacred space. They looked at each other and, without having to say a word, they knew. So they made a few calls, found an officiant, and procured a marriage license. They were married by dinner time on that cool, late September afternoon. Angela wore a sweater and jeans and Shawn was in his leather jacket. The ceremony was more emotional than either of them anticipated. They took their vows in the company of trees that were hundreds, maybe thousands, of years old and had literally stood the test of time against everything the planet had thrown at them so far, for better or worse. They likened themselves to the trees, warped and weathered, but still standing.</p><p>“If Jack wasn’t in San Francisco for work I don’t think he would’ve been there,” Shawn continued. “It was a coincidence.”</p><p>“He chartered a plane because it would’ve taken him too long to drive.”</p><p>“I’m not saying he didn’t put in one hell of an effort.” He took the photograph from her hands. “Do you ever regret not having a bigger wedding?”</p><p>“No,” she answered without hesitation. “I loved ours. I still love it. It was perfect.”</p><p>“Even without all the fancy clothes and food and dancing?”</p><p>“Even without all of that because that’s not the important part.” She laid her hand on top of his, touching his wedding band with her own. It wasn’t until it was time to exchange rings they realized they had overlooked one important detail. Everyone laughed when her father offered to fashion some blades of grass together. It was another memorable detail in a memorable day. For Christmas that year their gifts to each other were rings custom-made to resemble the bark of the redwood, a constant reminder of their wedding day and a thousand year old trees, with them always. “Why? Do you have regrets?”</p><p>“Regrets? Never, but sometimes I wish we had more people there to celebrate with us. But that would’ve added to the stress and I love how relaxed the day was. We never would’ve been able to get married in jeans with other people involved.”</p><p>“Right. It was our day, not a Cory and Topanga production. We’re not them.”</p><p>He wanted to argue, but when Cory saw the photos he went on a ten-minute rant wondering if the marriage was even legal without rings and in blue jeans. “They mean well.”</p><p>“I know.” Angela switched positions on the couch and lay against her husband’s chest. “Did Niko’s big gift get delivered?”</p><p>He wrapped her in a gentle hug, mindful of any lingering postpartum aches and pains. “It’s in the basement.”</p><p>“He’s going to love it.”</p><p>“You think?”</p><p>“Definitely. He’s going to lose his little mind over it.”</p><p>“Is it weird that this feels like some kind of milestone, buying my kid a swing set and slide?”</p><p>“How do you mean?”</p><p>“I never had one. I didn’t have a yard. All I had was a tire that hung from a tree on a rusty chain near Uncle Mike’s trailer. Trust me, it’s not the same.” He held her a little tighter. “I don’t know, I just like being able to give something to my kid that I never had.”</p><p>“I felt the same when we bought this house. I love traveling and there are still a lot of places I want to go and places I want the kids to see, but I love the idea of them having a home. They’ll feel a connection too somewhere. I don’t know if I had that before now. I love that they get to always have it.”</p><p>“Me, too,” he whispered and kissed her temple. They lay together quietly for a few minutes, basking in the soft glow of light from the Christmas tree. “You know what else we always talked having some day?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“A dog.”</p><p>Angela raised her head to look at him. “We have a four and a half year old and a five-week-old. Not to mention you’re going back to work after New Year’s. Are you insane? Who’s walking this dog when you’re at work?”</p><p>“How about a cat?”</p><p>“Niko’s allergic,” she reminded him.</p><p>“Right.” He was quiet for a minute. “A fish tank?”</p><p>Angela thought it over. She did enjoy fish. Tanks at doctor’s offices were always oddly relaxing. “You’d change the water?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll learn how to take care of all that stuff.”</p><p>“And if we wake up one morning and the fish are dead-”</p><p>“I’ll handle any dead fish conversations.”</p><p>“Okay, we can get a fish tank.”</p><p>He kissed her cheek. “You’re awesome.”</p><p>“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “And we can revisit the dog conversation when we’re done changing diapers. I refuse to be potty training Sonnet and a puppy at the same time.”</p><p>“Deal.”</p>
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